


Insert popular music reference here

by sophia_sol



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-06
Updated: 2011-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-20 05:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophia_sol/pseuds/sophia_sol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Darcy doesn't care about school, and Loki doesn't know where he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insert popular music reference here

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, have a random ficlet about Darcy and Loki. Darcy wanted to be written about, and then Loki showed up, and then I have _no_ idea what happens after this so I'm just releasing it into the wild as a standalone scene.

Darcy's sitting in class, bored out of her skull. Does she really want to be learning about public policy and administration? No. No she does not. Especially not at goddamn 8:30 in the morning. That would be why she's playing Angry Birds on her new iPod.

She's still angry with SHIELD for stealing her old one, the bastards.

But really, she thinks, as she sends birds flying and studiously tunes out the prof's voice, why is she here anyways?

Okay, yes, obviously to get her degree. But her summer position as physics lab monkey for Jane was probably actually the most interesting thing that's happened to her since going to university. She hates all her classes and her profs are stupid and why's she wasting money on this?

She glances up briefly from Angry Birds to look at the prof and the powerpoint, both of which are earnestly telling her about bureaucratic decision-making processes, and rolls her eyes. Yeah, whatever, she's done with this crap. Into her pocket goes her iPod, and then she's grabbing her backpack and walking out of class, right across the front of the room. The prof stares at her in a gormless sort of way as she leaves, and she lets the door slam behind her. It's kind of satisfying.

As she walks back to her shitty apartment, tossing her umbrella idly in her hands -- the forecast was wrong, again -- she begins to considers her options.

Then she stops considering, because there's a guy on the street in front of her, wearing a green cape and a hilarious helmet with horns, and looking distressed. He turns his wild eyes on Darcy when he notices her, and she sticks her umbrella under her arm and reaches into her bag for her taser.

But all he does is turn his gaze back away from Darcy, like he's decided she isn't important but doesn't know what is. Whatever, she thinks, and keeps on walking, taser firmly in hand.

"Wait!" the man says suddenly. Apparently he's changed his mind about her.

Darcy sighs and turns back to face him. "What?" she says.

"I need help," he says.

She gives him a level look. "Yeah, I can tell."

The man's face goes earnest under his awful helmet. "I'm terribly sorry to bother you," he says. "My friends thought it would be funny to dress me up like this and dump me here without any of my things. A prank. I was too drunk last night to do anything to stop them. Hell, last night I thought it was funny."

"Uh huh," says Darcy, giving her umbrella an idle toss with her left hand. She doesn't believe a bit of what he just said. "So what are you wanting from me, then? Directions? A lift home in my nonexistent car? All the money out of my wallet? Not happening, I'm warning you."

"No, I would just like to know where I am."

"You can't read the street signs?" She jabs her umbrella towards the intersection just a few houses down.

The man gives her a look. It's a surprisingly successful one, given the things he's wearing. How anyone can avoid looking ridiculous in that get-up is beyond her, but somehow this guy is managing. He's got presence. Or something. If nothing else, he's hot. Darcy's good at appreciating an attractive man when the universe presents her with one.

"Of course I can read street signs," he says. "But that doesn't help if I don't know the city the streets are in."

Darcy sighs. "What, really? That's kinda stupid of you."

"I am aware." The man sounds bitter.

Deciding to play along, she says, "You're in Albuquerque. That's in New Mexico, which is in the United States. Need me to keep going?"

"Please."

And the strange thing is, he looks almost _serious_ , although his tone is sarcastic. Darcy eyes him warily. He looks back, innocence written all over him.

"You're on Earth," she tells him. "Happy now?"

"Thrilled," he says, still with that mix of sarcasm/seriousness. His cape flutters behind him as he shifts in place.

"You're welcome," Darcy says, and walks away. She doesn't look back.


End file.
